


tell me now I'm much too proud to walk away from something when it's dead

by armario



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arthur moving tf on from that, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Unrequited Love, love yourself arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-31 07:08:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18586294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armario/pseuds/armario
Summary: Arthur believes that love is forgiveness. Or rather, you know you love someone when you forgive them for the same mistake over again.*Arthur is done with forgiveness.





	tell me now I'm much too proud to walk away from something when it's dead

Arthur believes that love is forgiveness. Or rather, you know you love someone when you forgive them for the _same mistake_ over again.

*

Arthur remembers when he first met Eames. It was hate at first sight. Well, hate is a strong word, but an instant dislike was obvious, much to Cobb's exasperation. He was constantly comparing them to a pair of kids, always squabbling and fighting over trivial things. It was like they disagreed just to disagree. 

Eames also had this habit of flirting shamelessly. He seemed to respect Cobb and toned it down a little, but loved to wind Arthur up. Constant pet names, little touches, whatever he could think of to make Arthur snap. He never did though, just kept it professional, and as time went by, they got to know each other better, and it ended up with a strange friendship.

When he heard Eames was going to be their forger for the Fischer job, Arthur was secretly pleased. However irritating he can be, it was never going to be a dull experience with him around. And maybe their friendship will end up as something more. In Arthur's experience, that is a pattern with high-risk, tense-atmosphere jobs. The idea doesn't fill him with disgust.

*

 There's something really,  _really_ wrong with Cobb, something that Arthur tried to help him brush under the carpet. The look Ariadne gets whenever she looks at him after she invaded his deepest subconsciousness tells Arthur he should have investigated it himself. Mal might be dead to everyone else, but to Cobb, she's still alive and well in his mind. 

  _That's why he can never love you,_ his brain supplies. Arthur grits his teeth and turns his focus to the job. He can't afford to make any mistakes.

*

Cobb can. Like bringing everyone into this dream without explaining the risks. Like making Arthur think he has a chance.

*

They have a history. Years of working together and you get to know someone really well. Even Cobb's kids and in-laws see Arthur as family now. He's the perpetual third wheel in Mal and Cobb's relationship, yet it seems like he belongs there. He can't bear to think what life would be like without them. Still, the time comes when he has to, and it's so much worse than he ever could have imagined.

Mal dies, her body resting broken on the street. Cobb flees; accused of murder. Arthur is left to pick up the pieces, and after that's over, he's left to chase Cobb and make sure he hasn't killed himself. 

He hasn't, but the Cobb that Arthur knew has died. There's a bitter, angry, heartbroken, perpetually grieving shadow in his place. 

Arthur makes it his life's work to piece him back together.

*

The night before the inception job. Cobb seems restless, not his usual calm self. Ariadne keeps sneaking glances of undisguised worry his way, and Arthur is starting to put two and two together. When everyone departs to their individual rooms, Arthur wonders whether he should catch up with Cobb and try and figure out what's wrong, help him through it in whatever way he can. Hotel rooms bring back unpleasant memories, and he'd rather not have a repeat of  _that night,_ but the problem is and has always been that he can't say no to Cobb. So whatever Cobb wants, he'll be.

 Eames takes his mind off that issue by presenting him with another. "Fancy coming to my room for a drink, Arthur?"

 _Yes,_ he thinks, wearily. He's never been oblivious to Eames' flirting, and over the years it's developed into something more affectionate, sweeter. softer and honest. He likes Eames- well, finds him infuriating at times, but he's funny and handsome and Arthur inexplicably _trusts_ him, so why does he feel this sickening guilt every time Eames so much as looks at him?

The answer stares him coldly in the face, but he refuses to acknowledge it. This time, he won't let that guilt stop him. Tomorrow's job could go horribly wrong, he can spare himself a last drink with an old friend.

"All right," he agrees, flushing slightly at the wink Eames tips him.

*

It starts off okay. Eames opts for whisky; Arthur wine. He fights the urge to get absolutely blackout drunk. They talk and laugh about things, memories mostly. Arthur realizes how comfortable he's feeling, slumped on a couch with his tie loose and top button undone, shirtsleeves rolled up and smiling without a hint of sarcasm.

It's... nice.

He doesn't really let himself get close to people. Eames wormed his way under his skin and into his heart almost without him noticing. No, that's stupid. Arthur notices everything. His subconscious  _let_ Eames in, like a cry for help, like a salve for his crushing loneliness.

The forger decides to fuck everything up by leaning in to kiss him. He put his glass down on the table and pulled Arthur close by his tie, and pressed their lips together. Gentle, questioning. Arthur has his answer.

"No," he says, pulling away. His voice is hoarse; he clears his throat and repeats. "No."

"Come on, Arthur," Eames says, masking his disappointment with a smirk. "I know you want to. We only have tonight."

But Arthur only wants tonight with someone else.

"I said no," he sighs. "I would, but..."

He's lost for words. How can he begin to explain why not? He can barely explain it to himself, and the truth is so ugly, so pathetic, that he never wants those words to see the light of day. 

Naturally, Eames senses this, and uses it against him. "You're holding out for someone," he drawls. "Someone who will never look at you as anything other than a sad, loyal puppy. Who comes back even though his master kicks him again and again."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Arthur seethes.

"So I'm wrong? You're not in love with Cobb?"

"I-"

"You're not stupid, Arthur. You know he'll never be interested in you. So why not settle for someone who doesn't want to see you hurt?"

"You're hurting me now," Arthur snaps, feeling tears blur at his eyes. Jesus, but the truth hurts, and he tries to claw back some semblance of dignity. " _I said no._ Can't you deal with the rejection?" His hands shake and he curls them into fists, nails digging crescents into his palms. "You can be a real bastard, you know that?"

Eames admits this may be partially to do with his wounded pride, but it's also a deep desire to make Arthur happy. Something that Dom Cobb has never done, will never do, and isn't capable of doing.

"You're hung up on him," Eames says quietly. "I get that. But he can't give you anything, and I'd give you everything, Arthur."

Arthur looks away, a muscle jumping in his jaw. He knows that Eames is right and he's startled by the earnest affection. And yet it still feels like a betrayal.  
"I can't," he grits out. "I'm sorry, Eames."

He leaves the forger to drink alone.

*

Arthur doesn't see Eames, or Cobb, till many months later. He'd been at a loose end, taking various random small jobs, but never feeling like it was enough, never feeling the same kind of challenge. 

As they'd come to learn, an idea is like a virus, and the idea planted in Arthur's head by Eames- that he can't keep waiting on Cobb- has started to take over. He's had enough time to think. And as unpleasant a thought it might be, he knows what has to be done. 

The flight back to the U.S was unfamiliar, but the flight from state to state gave him a strong feeling of déjà vu as he'd made the trip so many times over the years. To see Mal with Cobb, to see Mal's parents with Cobb, to see the kids, to see Cobb. And here he is again, begging himself to be strong, not to give in, and give his ultimatum without waver.

He knocks. A few seconds go by and he wonders if he made a mistake.

Then the door opens, and Cobb is there, and he knows he did the right thing.

"Arthur," Cobb says, almost in wonder. "I- did something happen? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he answers, but there must be something in those two words that suggest he's not, because Cobb pulls him in for a hug. Not a two-second brotherly pat on the back, a  _I-missed-you-so-much-and-I'm-so-glad-you're-here_ kind of embrace. That's the thing, though, isn't it? Cobb does love him, in his own way. He's just here to see if that way can be enough. 

"Arthur!" 

Unmistakably childish voices and the sound of running feet reach him and then two small children barrel into him at a hundred miles per hour. The last time he saw them is coming up to a year ago now, and he didn't realize how much he'd missed them.

"Wow, you guys are getting tall," he grins. "Hey, James, Phillipa."

It all feels so  _right,_ and when he's here, Arthur can almost understand why Cobb and Mal stayed in Limbo for all that time. This is his Limbo. But he has to come back to reality all the same. 

Later that night, Arthur refuses a drink. That reminds him too much of how it all started. He sits on the couch opposite and takes a deep breath.

"I came here to ask you something," he says. 

Cobb sets down his own drink and leans forward to listen. 

"That night. What you said about- when you said you could never love me," he fights hard to keep the eye contact, cheeks burning with shame, "Did you mean it?"

Cobb picks his drink back up; closes his eyes and downs it.

"I do love you, Arthur."

*

  _Arthur should have known where it was heading, or maybe he did, and he was just letting it all play out anyway._  
_Mal's death burned fresh in their minds and maybe Cobb just wanted to forget. It was just a shame that it was Arthur's emotions he chose to toy with to get there._  
_"_

_Come here," Cobb croaked. He was really fucking drunk, and Arthur felt painfully sober, although he'd drank almost as much._  
_He went. He didn't see any point in extending the performance, so he slid right onto Cobb's lap and put his arms around his neck._

_"I don't want to think," Cobb murmured. "I just want to feel."_

_Arthur kissed him. Cobb shoved him away- okay, okay, that's too close, too intimate. He surrendered, let Cobb manhandle him, strip him with impatient and shaking hands, let him push him down to the floor._

_"Good," Cobb said absently._

_Arthur can't bear to remember that part. It hurt, he wasn't prepared, but the worst of it is that he just lay there and cried._

_"I love you," he'd whispered, a real snuffling mess by that point, trying to justify why he was letting this happen. Knowing full well that this would ruin everything, knowing it would make Cobb hate him._

_When it was over, although it never truly was, Cobb propped himself up over Arthur's prone body and whispered back, "I will never love you, Arthur. No matter what you give me, what you say or what you do, I can never love you."_

Arthur remembers just lying there, not moving, his whole body wracked with silent sobs.

_Cobb left him._  
_The next day, Cobb had gone. There was a letter sitting on Arthur's bedside table._  
_Arthur,_  
_I can't put into words how sorry I am. I shouldn't have used you like that. I'm so ashamed that I couldn't bear to see you wake up and remember what I did. I'll understand if you never want to see me again._

_Arthur's world fell apart. How could Cobb do that to him? To hurt him like that, and then just- just leave?_  
_Before long, Arthur made sure they were back working together, insisting that everything was fine between them, that he understood, he was over it, and it wouldn't happen again._

_But it did._

_Never as violent, but Cobb had to have at least eight units before he'd even consider touching Arthur, and they'd never talk about it after._  
_For years it went on. When Cobb hit rock bottom, he turned to Arthur. And every time, Arthur let him._

*  
  
"When I said that," Cobb carries on, "I was drunk. I was bitter. And I was trying to tell you that I couldn't move on. I'm sorry, Arthur," he sighs. "For everything."  
Arthur presses forward before he loses his nerve. "But can you?"  
Cobb looks up.  
"...Move on?" Arthur finishes in a whisper.

Cobb gets off of the couch and moves to sit next to Arthur. He takes his hand. That's the closest to gentle touch they ever get to.  
"I can try."

That's a long way off  _no,_ and in a way it's good that he's starting to move forward. But it isn't a  _yes_ either, and there has to be certainty, because Arthur has been damaged enough by Cobb's unpredictable grief. 

Arthur smiles ruefully. Although it hurts, it brings a certain kind of relief too. "I need you to be sure. And it's okay- you're not. I've been waiting for you for so long..."  
He feels the tears start and dashes them away with his sleeve. Cobb grips his shoulder; he knows Arthur is saying goodbye.  
"I want a chance to be happy," he shrugs. "You know how I feel about you. But you don't feel the same. And I just think I deserve..."  
He trails off.

"Yeah, you do," Cobb agrees softly. He presses a kiss to Arthur's cheek. "Come visit, okay?"

Arthur nods, swallowing hard. He doesn't think he can speak. When he leaves, he looks back, and Cobb's head is in his hands. For a second, he feels guilty, and a voice in the back of his mind that sounds suspiciously like Eames says  _ **no,** he deserves it._

*

He gets it now. Cobb was hurt, traumatized, and that manifested through taking everything out on Arthur. That was wrong, and unfair, but it doesn't make Cobb and evil person, just a very, very flawed human. And selfish. Arthur thinks he deserves to have a chance to be selfish too, to live for himself instead of someone who doesn't even really _want_ to live.

Cobb asked him to visit. Inevitably, one day, he will- he'll never truly be able to get away, although at least he can give himself some emotional security to fall back on. He doesn't think he'll ever talk about what happened between them. It's too complicated and makes him desperately sad to think about what miserable, lonely people they were; he and Dominick Cobb.

*

A week later, Arthur is in the city of Rosario, leaning inconspicuously on the door of a silver BMW. It took a while to track Eames down, which is reassuring. He knows the man well enough at this point to find him anywhere, any time. He checks his watch, then looks up to see the door to the bank open. 

Eames steps out. It only takes a couple of seconds for him to realize who is standing in front of his car and his face lights up. Arthur feels warm inside, but keeps a straight face.

"Arthur, love, it's wonderful to see you," Eames grins, always providing a clean slate, grabbing his hand and shaking it emphatically. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He gives a wry smile, takes a second to figure out how to word this. "I know now. I was too busy chasing after a dream to notice what reality was offering," he says. 

Eames cocks his head, inviting him to elaborate.

"I'm done wanting people that don't want me back," he clarifies, then grins wolfishly. "And you want me, right?"

_"Right."_

* 


End file.
